Life After Voldemort
by Aviusa
Summary: Written pre DH, obviously: Harry has come home after defeating Voldemort and nothing is the same. Harry is trying to live life like before, engaged to Ginny, but his life is changed forever Harry just can't pick up where he left off. HPLL
1. Is she yet?

**Chapter one: Is she dead yet?**

It had been her idea to get engaged in the first place, Harry had agreed to it with joy and even love; but now, he wasn't so sure. The final battle had sapped him of all his emotions, he felt empty, unable to love Ginny like he used to, unable to fulfill emotion commitments of a married couple. It would break her heart… So here he was, sitting stone faced in a Mungo's waiting room, Ginny leaning on his shoulder, tears rolling slowly down her face, waiting for news about Hermione.

Hermione had been at the last battle, had helped by protecting him while he and Voldemort had faced off. Now she was paying the price, her health was erratic, and no one seemed to know if she would live or not.

"Tea?" Harry asked, Ginny had been like this since the healers decided to try an extreme, and risky, spell to try and pull Hermione back into consciousness, and his sleeve was damp. He needed to get away for a little while.

"Sure." The answer that passed through Ginny's lips was a tad horse, but accompanied by a weak smile.

Harry heaved a quiet sigh of relief, rising. "Be back soon." He managed a slight smile in return that immediately disappeared after he turned to walk out into the hall in search of a stairwell. Would he be responsible for another friend's death? He pushed the thought to the back of his mind; he didn't think he could handle that. He was here to get tea!

The service was good, and he only had half the people staring at his forehead by the time he left again; he had tried to grow out his hair, cover the scar, but he was such a well known image by now it was impossible to hide his identity. Descending the stairs he concentrated on not spilling any of the hot liquid out of one of the large steaming mugs onto himself; it kept other thoughts out.

"Thank-you." Ginny sipped at her tea, clutching it to herself like a child does a teddy bear. Her red-rimmed eyes closed gently as she enjoyed the comforting liquid steaming down to her stomach.

Harry didn't respond, he just took his seat back. Sipping at his tea absently, his eyes forever fixed on the door; silent as the grave. You will not think of death!

The spell took a long time; Ginny had fallen into a less then peaceful slumber by the time the healer came. Harry barely blinked, his eyes hurting from dryness. There were no tears to cry, he felt like a husk.

"There's some good news, and some bad news." The horrible words of every tragic muggle hospital story echoed through Harry's head. She must be dead! He jumped up, nose-to-nose now with the gray-haired healer. Ginny remained asleep, her head tilted back, fine scarlet wisps of hair falling over her face.

"The good news is the spell was successful, even with the extra man in the room." The healer began; Ron had refused to leave the room. "She's now asleep, and we believe she will stay with us." The healer hesitated.

"And the bad news." Harry's voice was not much higher then a hiss. She was not dead. What, then, was wrong?

"The bad news is we believe that since her condition was so bad that she might suffer from some mental issues, perhaps permanently, once she wakes up." The old man's face was creased with genuine concern.

"Have you told Ron this?" Harry asked, wondering how his best mate would react to this news. Ron and Hermione had been married only a year before, afraid for how much time they had left. Would that be all the time they had?

"The young-man inside was informed." The healer replied steadily. "We had to use a sedative spell on him, but he has calmed down."

That did it; Harry stepped quickly past the healer to the inner room, his mind forgetting Ginny. Presented with a long white hall Harry walked hurriedly down it, glancing every door till he caught a glimpse of red. The door read 'authorized personnel only, dangerous spells at work' but he ignored it, going to his friend who was sitting in a chair, his upper body collapsed onto the white sheets of the hospital bed.

"Ron?" Harry tentatively reached out a hand to Ron's shoulder, his friend's shoulders heaved. "There's a chance she is completely recovered." He offered; he felt so dead inside. What would he do if she never did? At least you didn't kill her. His mind was sick; if she was mentally disabled, if the smartest of them was mentally broken, it wouldn't matter if she was alive.

"If she isn't, this might be goodbye Harry." Ron's head lifted, his voice cracking in heightened emotion and rawness from so many tears.

"Ron, don't." His friend's entertainment of suicidal thoughts was like a kick in the gut, it was like having the devil laugh in his face. No matter what he did, someone other then him died, someone he loved. His soul would be shattered if it were to happen again. It didn't matter if he, personally, had entertained such thoughts; no one else would die for his stupidity. "You can't just let the world off the hook so easily. If she doesn't recover, whatever divine power let it happen should know that you're angry at them!" Those words were something that had kept him going the past few years.

Ron stared at him blankly. The form, curled in on herself, stirred slightly, letting lose a small groan.

A/N I think this story shall be rather long… Reviews would be nice –hint-hint-


	2. Not yet

**Chapter two: not yet**

"Hermione?" Ron jumped up, standing over his wife. A tentative hand reached out to brush sweaty hair out of face. Brown eyes blinked, looked up, and fixed upon blue.

"Ro-" Her voice was weak, but she seemed responsive. Harry let out a long sigh of relief. No one would die because of him- this time. "I was afraid I lost you." Making her voice audible was obviously costing her. Ron hushed her lovingly.

As she looked up at him Ron's hand instinctively moved to her cheek, stroking it lovingly. Harry, now, felt out of place. As the couple continued to stare deeply into one another's eyes Harry came to the quick conclusion that the couple needed to be alone.

Closing the door, quietly, behind him Harry nearly ran into someone who had been walking dreamily down the hall holding a picnic basket. "Luna?" The exclamation came out as a grating whisper. "What are you doing?"

"Oh- I'm sorry." The girl's dreamy demeanor evaporated rather quickly as she looked at him, startled.

Harry gave an inward sigh; he had not meant to be so rude. Why was she here anyway? "Apologies Luna." He finally added, giving a brief nod of the head. "Hermione just came around, and I think they need some time alone." Luna gave a knowing nod.

"I just brought some cookies." Luna replied raising the picnic basket, obviously quickly shrugging off any offense she might have taken.

"Oh- right. I should probably go tell Ginny." Harry replied after a few minutes silence.

"She was asleep when I passed through." Luna replied factually.

"Uh, right. See you around." Harry hastily retraced his steps back to the waiting room, passing the head healer, looking rather flustered. How did Luna get past him? Harry did not hold onto the thought for very long. Frankly, he didn't care. Taking the final steps Harry shook Ginny by the shoulder; it was time to wake up.

"What is it dear?" Ginny asked, blinking up at him blearily. Harry's heart shrunk slightly at the endearment.

"Hermione woke up." Harry replied simply, falling back into his seat, and running a hand absently through his hair.

"Is she all right?" Ginny sat up quickly, her eyes glancing quickly at the door, and then back to my face.

"She seems like she'll be ok. She seems like she's all there." Harry replied, he could hardly believe it himself.

"That's good." Ginny replied, her head leaning on his shoulder again. "We should swing by before we go home." She added, giving a sigh, gathering strength, and standing, Harry's hand in hers.

"Yeah." Harry hadn't been thinking about leaving. He didn't want to be intrusive, but there was nowhere he had to be, and he thought he might want to at least spend the night… Ginny began to walk forward, and Harry was jerked out of his inner contemplations to follow her.

As they walked down the sterile white hospital hall, Harry's feelings began to even out again; there was nothing. The holding of hands became the interlocking of arms, and soon she was walking skin to skin with him.

The room he had so hastily reached before was not too hard to spot. A woman with long blond hair sat on the floor, leaning on the wall, her fingers playing with a string of beads that had been entwined around her neck.

"Luna?" it was Ginny's turn to be surprised. Disconnecting herself she hugged her friend, now standing.

"A guy who called himself a healer is in there with them." Luna explained. "He looked like King Arthur, personally." She added absently. Harry couldn't help but let a slight smile flash across his face as the healer exited the room; casting a disapproving look at the, once again, dreamy young women.

"Ron?" Ginny stepped inside tentatively.

"Ginny." Ron stood up, a grin quickly spreading across his face. "They say it might take a while but she'll be all right." He continued engulfing his little sister into a bear hug. Joy was brimming over. Hermione, now sitting upright with the help of a few gargantuan pillows, offered a slow smile.

"I brought some cookies." Luna offered Ron the picnic basket, her face deadly serious.

"Oh, thanks." Ron loosed his sister, immediately falling upon the basket. "You are awesome Luna." He added as he pulled out a large chocolate chip cookie, and quickly digging in. Harry distinctly heard a short laugh from the bed.

"Me and Harry are going to head back now. Since everything's ok here." Ginny commented, taking Harry's hand. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye then." Ron glanced to Harry, who gave an apologetic wince as he was directed out of the room.

A/N: I hope that that wasn't too disappointing as it wasn't /as/ sad, or dramatic, or anything really… Thank-you lunafan and past-the-point, I nearly had a heart attack as I've never had such quick and enthusiastic response for a Harry Potter fanfic.


	3. Home Sweet Home

Chapter three: Home Sweet Home

Harry stepped gratefully out of the Knight Bus. The ride had been a bit bumpier then he had recalled. The new driver needed a little more practice.

The yowling of a cat brought Harry to the present. Startled for an instant, his mind congealing the shadows into the looming faced of a masked Death Eater. He blinked and the figment vanished.

"Harry?" Ginny was already half way up to the front steps of Grimmauld place. "You all right?"

"Yeah." Shaking his head vigorously Harry moved quickly up the steps, pulling out a rusty ring of keys he inserted the largest of the lot, with some difficulty, into the lock. The lock gave a loud squealing scream as he turned the key, and he reminded himself that he should probably fix that, eventually.

Harry had originally offered residence to all the Weasleys but with Bill and Charlie too far abroad, Fred and George living so close anyway right above their Diagon ally shop, and Percy still not talking to anyone to do with Harry, the only ones who excepted his offer were Ron, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. The eldest of residents were probably still at the ministry, tying up some loose ends for Ron and Hermione. Compensation for injuries sustained during active duty, reward for assisting in the annihilation of a threat to wizard kind and all that.

"Good-night then Harry." Ginny yawned hugely as she stepped through the front door, her voice constrained to a low murmur as the threat of waking Mrs. Black still loomed over the inhabitant's heads.

"Good-night." Harry watched her climb the steps till the small pinpoint of light, which was her wand, disappeared into the thick darkness. He was not at all tired.

Making his own way up the stairs Harry made his way to his own room, a small closet like space at the very top of the dilapidated old building; it would have been some kind of servant's quarters if it had been a muggle structure. It was far away from any rooms that Harry had been in during his first summer at Grimmauld place, he only vaguely wondering where Kreature was.

Lighting a candle Harry pulled out a few thick tomes from what had once been his school bag and dropped down to sit on his bed.

He, Ron, and Hermione had talked a lot about life after the war, all having heartily agreed they did not want to live off of whatever popular attention they might receive if, in the end, Voldemort was the one who would die and they would happen to live on past these days, no matter how unlikely that had seemed at times. Now that that had happened, he had a lot of studying to catch up on. He had completely skipped one year of school, and if he wanted to pass his N.E.W.T.s… How much would he remember from before? It felt like a lifetime ago.

He began the laborious task of reading the seventh year History of Magic text. Despite the great strain on his nerves, the quality of text, and the time that kept getting later and later, it took till sunrays began to peak under his window blinds before Harry's eyes fell shut.

Thestrals and the corpses of loved ones haunted Harry's dreams.

"Harry?" A sharp rapping at his bedroom door finally drew Harry out of his nightmares. "Harry?" Mrs. Weasley's voice came again.

"Yes?" Harry's voice was harsh, his throat dry.

"It's three o'clock dear, I wondered if you wanted breakfast." Mrs. Weasley sounded rather anxious as she explained.

"Yes please, thank-you." Harry replied quickly, his words falling over one another in sleepy haste. He heard the shuffle of footsteps walking away from his door, and then down the steps. The twenty-one year-old yawned and stretched. Changing out of his severally rumpled clothes of the day before he pulled on clean muggle attire and quickly followed after Mrs. Weasley, his stomach rumbling encouragement.

"Would you like eggs, toast, pancakes, oatmeal?" Mrs. Weasley fluttered anxiously around the kitchen as Harry took a seat at the table.

"Toast and eggs please." Harry replied, it seemed somewhat childish to have your breakfast made for you, especially at three in the afternoon, but it felt nice; he was not one to complain.

"You're up Harry." Ginny entered at that moment and swept up beside her fiancé, sitting beside him. "It's three o'clock." She noted after a minute, after glancing at her watch, and after Mrs. Weasley had delivered a hot steaming plate of food in front of Harry.

Harry nodded accent after a few minutes of chewing silence.

"You alright?"

"Yeah." Swallowing, Harry accepted a glass of orange juice. "Got a good night's sleep?"

Ginny nodded absently, watching him consume the rest of his breakfast. "Harry." A flicker of light caught the young man's eye and moved to the right of his plate where Ginny's fingers were playing with the small ring that bedecked her left ring finger. "I thought we could look into getting Mrs. Black removed, Dean thought his uncle might have removed something a similar portrait from a similar situation."

A slight twinge pulled at the edge of Harry's mind at the mention of Dean Thomas. Accompanied by an abrupt intake of breath a slight smell of flowers caught in his nose and he coughed, sending the egg he had been chewing all over the table top.

A/N: My apologies to not updating at all quickly! I do hope you enjoy it, and I do hope of posting more soon, now that I am back into the swing.

Thanks to Paris, Syd, Past-the-point, and lunafan for reviewing


	4. Enamored

Chapter four: Enamored

Peals of laughter echoed off of the stone walls of the kitchen. "Are you sure you're ok?" Ginny asked again, making no attempt to muffle her amusement.

"Yeah," Harry couldn't help but break a smile as he swept bits of egg off the table top, herding them back onto his plate.

"So?" Ginny continued to press, grinning as she gingerly brushed egg out of his day-old stubble.

"I would love to." The darkness of the night before fell away from Harry's shoulders like a shed skin; he felt like a new man all together. Harry's eyes locked on Ginny's brown ones, and he felt a tingle crawling under his skin.

"No time to lose then." Ginny, grabbing his hand, quickly lead him out of the kitchen.

-

Harry hadn't really thought about how Dean Thomas was getting along. Of course, he had spent the last few years chasing, and being chased by, the evilest wizard of all time. His years at school had faded to the back of his mind for the most part, except for that fateful night in the fifth year. The archway still haunted most of his dreams to this day. His otherwise blissfully cheerful mind quickly discarded this negative contemplation. He was with Ginny, and they were on their way to speak with Dean Thomas.

Dean, despite Harry's lack of considering, seemed to have done rather well for himself. That is, if the neat little row house in a cozy little wizarding town mean anything.

"This is it." Ginny commented blandly, squinting down at a rather sketchy map. "I think." She added as she looked up at a house that looked much like all the rest on the block. The difference, it would seem, to be the loud wailing that was emanating from an open window on the second floor.

"Looks like it." Harry commented, looking over her shoulder at the map.

Ginny nodded and walked up to the front door and lifted the doorknocker. As it fell, another wail joined the first.

"Oh, hello Ginny." The man himself answered the door, a fussing baby cupped in his right arm. "Harry." Offering the man a polite smile, as he caught site of him a few moments later. His questioning gaze was quickly directed to Ginny.

"You said your uncle might be able to help us with a problem." Ginny hinted at Dean's perplexed silence.

"Oh, yeah." Dean looked relieved, but then lost again as the child, tiring of their conversation, began to whimper again. "Will you excuse me?" He asked, rather sheepishly. "You woke the twins." He explained, ushering them into a small entrance way and hurried off.

"He's married to Parvati right out of school; works for the ministry." Ginny explained absently, looking around the bright trim room.

"They're asleep again." A rather ruffled looking Dean reappeared at the door, pulling his robes back into alignment as he considered his two visitors. "So, you wish to talk with my uncle Fredrick?"

Ginny nodded accent.

"He lives on Knockturn ally." Dean began, his eyes straying only slightly towards Harry, finding Ginny vastly more interesting. "Right behind Flourish and Blott's; he's usually there. It was nice seeing you." Dean finished quickly as Harry moved to wrap an arm, absently, around Ginny's waist, as if he had just noticed the other man. As Dean opened the door a breeze caught in Ginny's hair and Harry caught the sent of flowers once more. Ginny really was the best thing that ever happened to him.

A/N Well, I am not supposed to reply to reviewers anymore; so a general thanks to everyone who's put up with my untimely shortness so far


	5. Recuperatio Ward

Chapter five: Recuperatio ward

"You go up; I'll be up in a minute." Ginny loosed her hold on Harry's arm as they walked into the crowded entranceway to St. Mungo's. "Oh yeah. Mum said she was moved." With a last wave the cheery red head moved into the crowds of weekend visitors.

Harry moved to the end of the long line, and settled in for a wait; not that impatient as he gazed around at the oddities that surrounded him. The wizarding world still offered many new surprises.

One particular example could be the little girl in front of him, her hand in the firm grip of a harried looking mother; two little horns peaking out through her short brown curls and a long white beard dragging along behind the child.

Another women, her nose drastically shifted to the middle of her forehead, was holding up glasses to read a magazine, the Quibbler in fact; a cover blurb brightly proclaiming. "Arthur sightings. Has the king returned?" Luna had said something about King Arthur.

"What're you thinking about?" Ginny suddenly reappeared at Harry's elbow.

"Nothing." Harry reapplied, clearing his head with a shake, as they reached the front of the line. "Hermione Weasley."

"Recuperatio ward, fourth floor." The women at the service desk didn't look up, and everyone else was caught up in their own worries. Harry tried to flatten his bangs subconsciously, but no one bothered him.

"Ginny, how's Luna?" Harry tried to bring up the subject as lightly as possible, but he felt her stiffen beside him.

"Oh, Luna's doing ok. She writes for her dad." Ginny replied after a brief pause. "We had a falling out." She finished, adding by ways of explanation to his perplexed look.

"May I ask why?" Harry decided to probe a little under the surface. It seemed so out of place.

"It was nothing." Ginny waved it off. Harry was about to continue, but Ginny veered off to the right, and they were standing in a ward.

"Harry, Ginny!" Ron greeted the pair heartily; rising from his seat beside Hermione's bed, were he had been pilfering a chip or two from her dinner.

Harry watched Ron envelop his sister in a hug, his good humor, no doubt, pointed to Hermione's substantial recovery. Harry physically relaxed; the last vestiges of the panic that had hung over him in the week since that fateful night finally fell away. He let out a sigh of relief.

"You alright mate?" Ron asked, grinning down at Harry; slinging an arm around his friend and pulled him over to Hermione's bed. "Hermione's doing superbly."

"Hello Harry." Hermione's greeting still sounded rather meek and mild in comparison to its normal robustness; in comparison to the palled corpse that had lain inert under the starched white coverlet, though, this was a vast improvement.

"Hermione." Her name was a breath on his lips; the next few seconds were silent as relief rushed over him. A silly looking grin plastered across his visage. Only the light touch of Gunny's renewed grasp pulled him out of this trance. "How much longer do you think you'll be here?"

"Actually, if she doesn't collapse or something, we can go tomorrow evening." Ron exclaimed, those few moments transforming him into a foolishly effervescent first year once more; Harry was reminded how much he loved Hermione, and how much worse it would have been for him if something had happened to her. Hermione. His wife. How caught up he had been in his own worries, and Ginny, the thoughts sent a wave of revulsion over him at his own self-centeredness.

"We were wondering if we could stay at Grimmauld place?" Hermione directed her question to Harry, but her eyes strayed to focus on just beyond him, on Ginny.

"Of course!" Harry nodded his vigorous assent. "The more the merrier."

"The head nurse is looking at the us strangely. You're being too load I think." Ginny whispered to Harry. "Perhaps we should be going, mum will be expecting us back for dinner." Her voice rose, and was a normal volume by the tail end of her suggestion.

"Mum's cooking…" Ron murmured dreamily, his dreamy expression rivaling that of Luna at the best of times.

"You won't die from week of Hospital food." Hermione retorted, laughing. "Don't let us keep you from your delectable feast,"

"See you soon." Ginny directed Harry towards the exit.

"We think we found someone to get rid of Mrs. Black." Harry let himself be lead away.

As they stepped out of St. Mungo's they were stopped, dead in their tracks, as a few bright lights flashed and a shrill voice called out. "May I have a word?"

A/N I can hardly believe I updated so fast


	6. You're Going Back to School?

Chapter Six: You're Going Back to School?

"Colin?" Harry tried to blink away the stars that were obscuring his vision.

"It's me!" proclaimed the pygmy figure that was barely visible through all the sparks of light popping before Harry's eyes. "I got a job at the Daily Prophet Harry! Isn't that great?" Colin's voice was not much deep or more composed then it had been when they were in school; he didn't seemed to have changed very much.

"Terrific Colin." Blinking a few more times Harry offered Colin a congratulatory smile as the young man cavorted back and forth in front of Harry and Ginny.

"You wouldn't mind me taking a few pictures, asking a few questions?" Colin asked cheerfully, looking up at Harry hopefully.

"I'm sorry Colin. Ginny and I were just going home to dinner." Though Harry viewed Colin as a step up from the likes of Rita Skeeter, he still didn't feel up to any kind of questioning at the moment. Glancing at Ginny, he saw his feelings reflected with an edge of annoyance.

Colin visibly slumped slightly, it obviously meant a lot to him. Harry glanced nervously around at the muggles that were passing by. Somewhat afraid that he might be swamped by more of the reporter ilk at any moment

"How about Tomorrow over lunch, I'll meet you at Flora Fortescue's café?" Harry suggested, wanting to escape the curious glances of passing muggles.

"Yes Harry, that would be wonderful." Colin immediately cheered up again; spontaneously grabbing up Ginny's hand and pumping it vigorously. Turning quickly away again, he trotted away humming a happy tune.

"Let's get out of here before we're mobbed." Ginny suggested, massaging her wrist.

-

"I had been needing some new robes." Ginny commented as they entered Diagon Alley.

"Well, between meeting with Dean's uncle, and meeting with Colin, I didn't think we'd have time. Perhaps when I come back to do my school shopping." Harry suggested softly, her flowery aura engulfing his senses.

"School shopping?" Ginny's sharp tone cut Harry out of his gauzy trance in an instant. He looked down at her, perplexed; suddenly realized he hadn't told her. She was supposed to be the most important person in his life, his fiancé, and he hadn't told her.

"Ron, Hermione, and I are going back to Hogwarts to study for our N.E.W.T.s." Pulling her aside, and out of the rushing crowd, Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair to flatten his bangs down over his forehead.

"When were you planning on telling me?" Ginny asked, her hands locking into fists as they propped themselves on her hips. The ever-ominous Ginevra kick butt stance.

"I thought I had." Harry explained, trying to look as innocent as possible as he racked his brain for when he had told her; coming up with nothing.

"Well, at least I know now…" Ginny sighed, clearly assuming you couldn't expect much more from a guy anyway. "We can talk about this later, when we have more time." She finished, relocking arms with him and directing him back into the stream of traffic.

'Well, that went well.' Harry gave an inward sigh at his own tactlessness.

"So, when were you planning on going school shopping?" Ginny finally broke the silence of a few minutes, successfully mimicking Mrs. Weasley's sharp questioning tone, usually reserved only for the twins.

"I was thinking somewhere around a week before term." Harry shrugged. "We haven't even received our supply lists." Now it was his turn to veer off at a sharp angle to turn them into the depths of Knockturn Alley.

"Do you think that's his door?" Ginny asked, gesturing to an old oak door set into the back of Flourish and Blotts. Harry nodded.

This time was Harry's turn to step up the short stoop, reach up, and pull on the bell rope. This time, however, there was silence; no one came to the door. Harry pulled again, and heard the faintest of scratchy steps. A few seconds later the door gave a loud shriek of protest, but opened only a crack.

"Magical Radical Removal Service: we get rid of anything and everything including annoying in-laws." The voice that came from the other side of the thick oak door was shrill, and accompanied the appearance of a thin dark face peeking around the door to study the visitors. The door let out another long squeal as the man pushed it the rest of the way open, apparently deciding he wasn't being beset by a horde of death eaters. "How may I be of service?" White canines flashed in what little light there was, as he presented Harry and Ginny with a dazzling salesman smile.

"We wanted to talk to you about removing something." Harry replied, tentatively, taken slightly aback by the friendliness, heavily embroidered dress robes, and cleanliness from the squalid shadows of Knockturn Alley.

"Please, step inside." The man, who Harry assumed was Uncle Fredrick, swept them a wide welcoming gesture; with only a moment's hesitation Ginny and Harry obliged.

They were ushered into a dimly lit study, it's walls exhibiting many complicated diagrams that seemed to graph very complicated removal spells. But, who could really tell in this half-light? A few highly ornamented bookcases displayed several rows of thick dusty tombs and models.

"What kind of thing do you need removing Mr. Potter?" The tone was light as he offered them seats and Harry was not surprised that the man knew his name.

Harry proceeded to explain the situation, and Fredrick, as the man turned out to be, promised to stop by the next afternoon to solve the problem, but in such as hazy way that Harry was reminded of plumbers, and their renowned lack of punctuality. The left with his promises still ringing in their ears; if it meant getting rid of the immortal shrew, Harry would gladly give the man his first born child. Of course, he highly doubted Ginny would agree to that. Him with children, the thought was almost scary. But that wasn't for a while… Right?

A/N Well, I finally updated, and it's not quiet as long as I would have liked, but I need to move on to some other things, and so I decided to round this chapter off, rather then delaying submitting any more.

My thanks to those who reviewed, and added the story to their faves or alerts, despite my long absence. I really do want to finish this story, and I do actually know where it's going too!


	7. Do I love you?

Chapter Seven: Do I love you?

"This is the best meal I've had in a week!" Ron exclaimed, shoveling giant servings of everything onto his plate. "Minus Luna's cookies of course, they were delicious."

"You think about food too much." Ginny muttered in reply, picking at her own food.

"Green beans dear?" Mrs. Weasley hovered over Hermione's half filled plate.

"Thank-you Mrs. Weasley." Hermione smiled, lightening her pallid complexion.

"We just finished today, the ministries going to pay all of you a healthy pension Harry." Mr. Weasley, who had spent most of the past few days representing them in front of a panel of ministry representatives. The Ministry hadn't changed much over the years, and they still took twice as long as they needed to decide anything.

Harry nodded his thanks, only half listening to this good news as he stirred broccoli around his plate. This chaos of cheer was a welcome change in the shadowy kitchen. There were so many memories, so many dead.

A loud knocking set Mrs. Black off and Harry quickly scrabbled to his feet and up the hallway to the door. Peeking out through the peephole he saw the unmistakable pale freckles and red against brown. It wasn't all that surprising and Harry quickly threw back several bolts, muttering one or two incantations under his breath; finally, revealing the couple beyond. One was tall, gangly, and freckled, the other, shorter, darker, and very pregnant.

"My apologies." Harry offered Fred and Angelina an apologetic smile, as Mrs. Black screeched on.

Fred nodded, rolling his eyes in sympathy.

"Good to finally see you." Angelina hugged Harry gingerly.

"It's been a while." Harry concurred, waving them on before turning to reseal the door. Maybe he was turning into Mad Eye, but the fear of dark wizard reprisal was yet another paranoia that haunted Harry.

By the time Harry returned to the Kitchen, Mrs. Black and quieted down, and the rounds of embraces had just finished. The new pair settled at the far end and Harry went back to Ginny. He wasn't hungry; Ginny laid her head on his shoulder. An odd silence fell as Mrs. Weasley brought out new utensils; her bustling seemed somewhat slower and duller. The happiness had waned.

Hermione was here. George wasn't.

-

That night Voldemort visited Harry in his dreams.

Harry saw Voldemort's corpse as it had sprawled out before him in the final battle; he stood stalk still, breath coming in short wracking gasps, just like it had then. This time, however, the body began to rise with unearthly grace, and to float towards him determinedly.

Harry tried to turn, to run, but invisible hands had grabbed a hold of his shoulders and he could not let go.

Voldemort drew closer, and Harry became frantic. One scaly hand rose and pointed a wand strait at Harry's forehead. Powerless, the young man could only stand and look on as the ugly lips mouthed out a incantation. A flash blinded him. He woke to a sharp pain on his cheek.

Harry opened his eyes slowly to find his eyes inches away from Ginny's, their noses nearly touching.

"What?" Harry croaked, pain lancing up and down his throat.

"You were screaming." Ginny replied, pushing his sweaty bangs off his forehead with her cool fingers.

"Oh, sorry." Harry could feel blood running to his cheeks with shame.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, moving to sit down on the edge of his bed.

"Nothing."

"I was shaking you for five minutes before you woke up." Ginny persisted, looking hurt; letting her hand flow down the side of his face, top his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. It was only a dream. I'm sorry I woke you." Harry worked up a face of true sincerity, as he patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

"I don't mind." Ginny reassured him, leaning forward 'till her lips met his; pressing on to deepen the kiss.

Harry was a little surprised, but his body pressed towards her, every drop of testosterone in his body wanting that kiss. His arms entwined around her thin frame. Her hands rose around to encase Harry's head. He was swamped by her intoxicating smell.

Something faded, and Harry suddenly felt wrong. This kiss felt like the mechanical fulfilling of his lusting after a pretty women; Harry bulked.

"What's wrong?" A scowl flitted across Ginny's face as she sat up again, looking down at him. Questioning.

"I don't know. I've changed a lot in the past few years; I am not sure if I'm ready for this anymore." Harry blurted out, confused by his own feelings; boggled by his own reaction. He scrambled back onto his butt to look levelly at Ginny. Not sure how she would respond.

"Harry?" Ginny gasped out, obviously caught completely off guard. "You keep coming to these crack decisions, and only telling me about them when I stumble right into them. You need to tell me these things!" The words flew out, every one of them falling heavily on his guilty heart.

"Okay Ginny, I'll try to be completely honest." Harry took a deep breath. As his fiancé, as Ron's little sister, and as his friend, she deserved to know. "I'm not sure how to say this." He started, averting his eyes as he stalled for time. "Ever since I got back, it's like my heart is malfunctioning. My emotions are haywire. Hermione nearly died; I've seen so many innocent people die. Then there's Sirius, my mom and dad, Cedric and Dumbledore. So many people are dead because of me. I don't think I am emotionally stable enough to commit to you. I mean," Harry, continued, wanting to clarify what appeared to be an insult, " I don't want us to get married and me to suddenly go mad, I don't want to get you stuck like that. I do love you, I just don't want to ruin everything we have by rushing into anything." So, he had stretched it a bit when he had told her he knew he loved her. He didn't know anything. But, the shocked speechlessness was easing from her face; he had bought some time to figure out how he did feel about her.

"Okay Harry. I love you." The words were almost mechanical, but she looked very relieved. "Get some more sleep." She finished, offered him a smile, and stepped out of his room.

Harry glanced down at his watch, four forty-five, he should be getting some more sleep. Rolling over to the far side of his bed, it took a surprisingly short time before he had fallen into a dreamless sleep.


	8. Letters

Chapter Eight: Letters

Everything seemed a little dimmer, a little grayer, a little less interesting as Harry Plodded down the stairs.

"Good morning Harry!" Since when had Ron been a morning person? Well, on any other day but Christmas. But the animated denied all logic as he pounced on his best friend. "Breakfast smells great! I haven't slept so well in days."

"Good. How's Hermione?" Harry asked, looking back at the door from which Ron had appeared.

"She's still sleeping; she was really tired after last night." Ron continued to babble on and on as they walked down to the kitchen.

"What will you do when your mother isn't around any more to make you breakfast?" Harry asked, watching Mrs. Weasley as she prepared large servings of eggs, bacon, and pancakes.

Ron simply rolled his eyes and dug into a plate piled high. "Good morning Ginny."

Harry winced ever so slightly as Ron smiled at someone behind him.

"Ron, Harry." Harry felt Ginny's hand brush against his shoulder ever so briefly before she sat down. "I got an owl last night; I have to apperate to the Ministry shortly."

The orange juice caught in Harry's throat, nearly sending juice over the entire table; Ginny sent him a surprised glance.

"It's a little sudden isn't it?" Harry shrugged, defensive.

"The department of mysteries can be a little sporadic." Ginny explained, and Harry felt the blood rush to his face at her demeaning undertones.

"Don't get hurt." As Ginny rose Mrs. Weasley engulfed her in a hug. "I never imagined my only little girl, going off to work at such a place."

"See you later Harry." Ginny offered him the first near genuine smile since… Last night. Going to show her out, they exchanged a somewhat awkward embrace; then she was gone.

Turning back to the hall he saw Ron's back as he went up stairs again, a tray of food in hand for Hermione.

"Very very tricky this one." Frederick was fairly dancing around the portrait in delight as Mrs. Black glared austerely down at him. "I've not seen anything so complicated in years."

"Blood traitors and mudbloods! Get out of my house with your putrid smells!" Mrs. Black began screaming again as Frederick began to poke his wand into the dark recesses behind her frame.

"So you can get rid of her?" Harry's voice, swelled with hope, was barely audible over the portraits screams of indignation.

"I'll have to look through some of my books, but I am confident in a positive conclusion." Frederick bellowed over the racket, displaying one of his sparkly smiles.

As Harry lead him back to the door, handing over twenty-five gallons. Harry remembered another person with such a smile; he was sitting in a mental institution.

"I'll be back tomorrow."

Harry offered the man a nervous smile and closed the door quickly behind him.

"What's wrong Harry?" Harry spun around to face Hermione.

"Nothing. That was just Dean's Uncle Frederick. He thinks he can get rid of her." Harry replied, gesturing to the grumbling portrait.

"If you say so." Hermione shrugging; for all she looked tired and pale, she looked sorry for him.

"I really am okay." Harry snapped back. Her sympathy was nothing but intrusive and irritating. "How are you feeling?"

"Better every day."

"Still think you're up for another year of school?"

"After what we've been through, it'll be easy." Hermione laughed.

"Hermione, the mail just arrived!" Ron was bounding down the stairs, a hand waving several scrolls. "Our letters just got here!" Reaching the entranceway, Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione without a second thought.

Harry's heart ached.

A/N

Sorry for the short chapter, that took so long.

I've already started the next chapter and there is Luna, so never fear!


	9. Diagon Ally

Chapter Nine: Diagon Ally

"If you're going to Diagon Ally anyway." Mrs. Weasley began, sending a disapproving look at Hermione. "You'll want to pick up some new dress robes."

"Why would we want to buy anything so torturous?" Ron exclaimed, aghast, a hand shooting protectively to his throat; Hermione rolled her eyes, suppressing a giggle.

"For the Ministry ball." Mrs. Weasley replied. "Arthur was going to tell you last night, but, I guess he forgot, what with you two coming home and everything. Anyway, here's the official invitation." With a flick of her wand, a scroll fell to the table beside Hermione.

"Dear Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Mrs. Weasley." Hermione began, unrolling the heavy parchment carefully. "The Ministry has decided that, along with monetary payment, a public recognition and thanks are deserved; it has then been decided that there will be a thank-you ball on the thirtieth of July in the Ministry's ambassadorial department. A return owl should be sent as soon as possible, with a list of those attending. Yours always, Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic."

-

The trio was the center of much staring, as they strolled down Diagon Ally to Gringotts; rather then being mobbed, they seemed to be either held in worshipful aw, or Hermione was simply beating them off with how fragile she looked.

"I think I'll sit this one out." Hermione commented, quickly settling down on an uncomfortable looking bench just inside the large bank foyer.

"You'll be ok out here?" Ron queried, looking around as if he thought Fluffy might jump out of the crowd at any moment, and gobble his wife up.

"I'll be fine; you don't need to worry about anything." Hermione reassured him. "I just don't feel up to the roller coaster ride"

"Roller coaster?" Ron still hadn't learned the finer points of muggle entertainment; it wasn't, though, like Harry had ever been on a real roller coaster either.

"Never mind, just go." Hermione urged him on allowing herself an amused smile; Harry lead Ron up to the front counter were a goblin glared out from under heavy brows, and over his protruding nose.

"Harry Potter." Harry said, sliding his key across the counter.

"And Ron Weasley." Ron added, doing the same.

"Follow me." The goblin's voice was low and nasally.

"I don't know how Charlie can stand them." Ron admitted, in a whisper, as they followed after him.

-

"Harry." Luna's drew out his name; offering him an airy smile as she turned from Hermione, as the two boys came back, slightly more wobbly for the Gringotts experience.

"Hi Luna."

"So, where to next?" Ron asked, nodding to Luna, but with all his attention trained on Hermione.

"I was thinking, Slug and Jiggers Apothecary; I think they are still there." Hermione pulled out a list of exceeding proportions; a sadness slumping her thin shoulders.

"I need to get some supplies for my field research of Swoppits." Harry jumped, Luna had somehow moved around to his left shoulder as he had been trying to think of someway to raise the depressing curtain that had fallen over them all.

"What are Swoppits?" Ron barely rained back a snort of laughter; Luna didn't seem to notice, and began to explain at great length as they walked up the alley.

"Swoppits generally live in garbage dumps, but they are attracted to any sort of strong smells." Luna explained gravely, nearly running into a mother who was healing a scraped knee; Harry grabbed her elbow a second before impact and pulled her out of harm's way. Luna smiled at him, realizing too late what had just been averted, and continued.

"They like to climb up people's nostrils, if their big enough, and stuff up your sinuses. Muggles commonly mistake them for air born allergens."

"What are you studying?" Ron asked, his nose brushing Hermione's hair as his head turned to look back to Luna, beside Harry.

Harry noted how Ron's arm curled protectingly around Hermione's waist; how her head leaned ever so slightly into his shoulder. Harry didn't hear Luna's reply, but her next question broke him out of his reverie.

"Where is Ginny?" Harry blinked and found Luna's face craned forward, and blinking up at him.

"She had to go to work." Harry shrugged. The fact, if he wasn't caught up in the reminiscing their final meeting, did make him feel sort of weird, considering he had to have any kind of real job.

"The Department of Mysteries has been stressed recently." Luna nodded sagely. "Something escaped."

"Oh." Harry wasn't exactly sure to believe her or not, but who really knew what they were up to anyway?

"Good afternoon Sirs and Ladies." A think man peered at the quartet over a large wooden counter, a wide grin plastered across his face; Harry had no doubt he knew exactly who they were. Except for Luna, perhaps. Hermione was all to happy to happy to engage him, and the man was soon jumping around his small shop as she listed item after item.

Lund, on the other hand, had treated to a corner where she was examining a shelf of smelling salts.

Harry moved to look over her shoulder, but stopped a foot behind her, already overwhelmed by the smell, which was even stronger then the other odors that covered the rest of the shop. Harry sneezed.

"Swoppits." Luna commented, her nose centimeters from the faded labels.

A/N I believe I wrote this some time before school even ended last spring, but I never actually got around to typing it up and posting it.

Anyway, I believe I have written better since I authored this.

The next chapter is also half written already, but I hope to restart writing this story. 


	10. Dress Robes

Chapter Ten: Dress Robes

"I actually thought you looked kind of cute with the lace." Hermione commented over a collection of dress robe patterns; Ron, who had been staring out the front window at passers by, whipped his head around.

"They don't still make those feminine torture devices?" Ron was aghast.

"But I like this one better, myself." Hermione pointed to another picture Harry couldn't see; he turned back to his own booklet. Who knew there were so many styles?

"Shouldn't you wait 'till Ginny can be here?" Luna asked, looking up from a copy of The Quibbler. "You are going together."

"We had a bit of a falling out." Harry muttered, his nose getting very close to the catalog; forming a barrier.

"She broke up with you?" Luna's surprise irked Harry; moving him to embarrassment to anger.

"I broke up with her." Harry replied defensively; up to this point he would have used a softer term, but his anger burned away all softness.

"That's odd." Looking past the catalog - who was she to call anything about him odd? - he found her staring at him, rather perplexed; Harry glanced nervously to the side, wondering how Ron and Hermione's reactions would compare, but Hermione was holding a color pallet to Ron's head.

"Can we not talk about it?" Harry asked, returning to flipping through the catalog; trying to seem nonchalant. Luna shrugged; silence stretched out.

"The light green makes you look like a Christmas tree." Hermione rebuffed Ropn's suggestion. "You'll need a haircut too," her voice falling to a mumble as she ran her fingers through her husband's hair.

"Hermione is well?" Luna's question jerked Harry's attention back from its wondering; he realized he'd been staring at the couple.

"Hermione's doing great." Harry replied, his heart rising from the glumness thoughts of Ginny brought.

"They look even more perfect then they did in school."

"They are perfect." Now Harry was back to feeling sorry for himself. "What do you think of this one?" Harry quickly changed the subject, holding forth the catalog.

Luna studied the picture critically; looking down at the picture, up at Harry, and down at the picture, she prepared to state her opinion. "The green will-" and Harry chimed in, "match your eyes." Harry let out a bark of laughter.

"You must hear that a lot." Luna smiled; letting out her own tinkle of laughter. "But it's true." She finished, and if Harry wasn't imagining things, flushed slightly.

"It does get tedious though." Harry replied with a shrug.

"The cut is normal enough." Luna continued, moving on quickly. "You can change the color to whatever you want."

"Is normal bad?"

"Not particularly." Luna shrugged, handing back the catalog, and turning back to The Quibbler.

"What would you do?"

"Probably longer sleeves, some green embroidery, and more flowing." Luna replied from behind the protective wall of The Quibbler. "Black."

"That one looks like the robes you wore to the Yule Ball." Hermione commented from over Harry's shoulder; making him jump.


	11. What is love?

Chapter Eleven: What is love?

Harry was perfectly happy spending the next two weeks doing practically nothing, perfectly happy when he forced his mind away from moping about his arduous love life.

Truth be told, he still had yet to set foot into Sirius' room, but the relief, the perhaps guilty but overwhelming pleasure of relief, that his destiny was lifted from his shoulders, and that it was quiet possible that no one else would die for him again; it was enough to lift anyone's spirits.

Then, of course, there was Ginny; though he saw her tired form occasionally since her return to active duty, thoughts of her tormented Harry deep into the lonely nights.

What was love? He had lead a life far from normal, and had grown up in a world devoid of any affections; who was he to know what true love was? Is that what he felt for Ginny? Without any answer to the first question, Harry was far from being able to answer the second; though his body ached to feel Ginny close to him once more, the nagging, normally sensible, part of his mind told him this was only lust.

The next, and possibly most important fundamental question was whether he could spend the rest of his life with Ginny. True love or no. So many people thought they could, and still ended up enduring messy separations; how could he, with lust, overcome the obstacles that still lay in his way. Would she even have him now?

Finally, what would happen if he did not continue his courtship of Miss Weasley? Would her family, her four older brothers, still support him? The Weasleys were the closest thing to a family he had, but they weren't his blood family.

"It's good to see Fred settling down, getting married, even if he insisted on reopening the joke shop." Mrs. Weasley sighed over her knitting needles; breaking the near silence that covered the evening gathering. Complete silence followed her words.

With Angela's due date quickly nearing, the couple had taken to dining at Grimmauld Place every night, as well as some afternoons and evenings; affairs that had become almost light hearted. They weren't here tonight, deciding rather to spend the evening going over the store's old accounts.

"A little baby will be wonderful." She added, after several minutes; her voice cetching in her throat. Everyone was looking at her now, and a glistening at her eye gave away more emotions then Mrs. Weasley was revealing. "And who knows if Bill and Fleur will ever have a baby!" Now she broke down and burst into silent tears.

Mr. Weasley wrapped a comforting arm around his wife; mumbling encouragements that Harry could not hear from across the substantial Black living room.

Harry's eyes shifted from the couple to Hermione and Ron, a few feet away, who had been reviewing sixth year transformation, but who now sat silent; Hermione's eyes locked on her mother in law, and Ron's nervously quivering over Hermione, as his ears turned a vivid red.

Why?

Mr. Weasley face rose from his wife to send a look to the three young adults' sending them silently from the room.

"She's lost so much." Hermione's voice was hardly above a whisper; she leaned into Ron's shoulder, as the trio paused on the landing.

Ron sighed, his head leaning down to rest on Hermione's.

"What's wrong Ron?"

Harry took a few hesitant steps up the stairs; fighting the usual battle between giving them privacy, and a selfish, childish, want to keep things the same as they ever had been.

"I was just thinking… About what my mum said…" Ron stumbled a little bit in nervousness, catching Harry's backward glance in his own extremely anxious one. An expression not unlike the one Harry had witnessed the cold and rainy night Ron had finally purposed to Hermione.

A fierce beating of wings against the landing window interrupted the moment.

"When will we…" Ron continued steadily on, as Harry walked over to the window and let the owl inside; the barn owl was on the smaller side, and was not one that Harry recognized. Releasing the note from its talon, the owl quickly departed once more.

"Ron, Hermione!" Harry yelped; staring down at the slip of parchment, which bore the Saint Mungo's seal. "Angelina is having the baby!" 

Ron snatched the slip from Harry, incredulity scripted clearly across his face; with a single motion he whirled around and dashed back into the living room.

"Oh my." Hermione and Harry were left, breathless and dumbfounded, outside the swinging door. "She wasn't due for another week, at least."

The next moment they were nearly bawled over yet again, by the hasty exit of the three Weasleys.

"We'll have to take the Knight Bus."

"But it'll take ages!"

"It can't be helped; no other way."

"Coming Harry?" Ron stopped in front of Harry, his breath coming heavily as if he had just finished a marathon, his hand rested on Harry's arm.

It was the normal nearly a Weasley, not a Weasley, sort of thing; He should just marry Ginny so they could move quickly past all this, are you family now or not, nonsense.

"Sure." Harry mumbled, taking a step closer to Hermione.

"You think you'll be alright?" Ron quickly moved on to Hermione.

"I couldn't miss it."

Quickly enough the party was out the front door, and onto the Knight Bus.

A/N The chapter is almost twice as long as the other; I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed, faved, or put alerts on this story, it's so nice, and everyone else who at least takes the time to read.


	12. It Still Hasn’t Come

Chapter Twelve: It Still Hasn't Come

Even though it had seemed like hours had passed since they had left Grimmauld Place, what with the Knight Bus darting around every desolate heath in all of Europe, before they finally reached Saint Mungo's. Mrs. Weasley's her fingers' wrapped tightly around her handbag; her knuckles white.

Another hour later, Mrs. Weasley had finally stopped pacing the waiting room, only to be replaced by Hermione, nervously flittering from one robust baby painting to the next. How long did these things take?

"I'll just nip upstairs for some tea?" Mr. Weasley had been silent up to this point, but now stood slowly. "Would anyone else like some?" Mrs. Weasley nodded, and her husband's eyes moved on to Hermione, who had briefly halted at his words.

"Yes, thank-you."

"I'll come with you." Ron jumped up, his drawn face eyeing Fred, who was still seated, and didn't really seem to be paying attention.

"Me too." Harry joined Ron; sending his own worried glance at Fred, who had retreated from Mrs. Weasley's fussing as the time stretched out, and they heard nothing.

"Get Fred some too." Mrs. Weasley's voice was hushed, and the man did not even twitch at the mention of his name.

"Were you like that every time one of us arrived?" Ron asked as the three men walked up the floor flights of stairs from Creature Induced Injuries to the tearoom and gift shop.

"When William was born, yes, and with Ginevra." Arthur conceded after a moment's thought. "Even though magical care is slightly different from muggle." He explained; Harry shrugged, having not ever experienced anything beyond maybe two health classes. "But, we don't live forever, and there are just as many dangers, as you well know, and there are only a few less dangers in this sort of thing…" Mr. Weasley trailed off as they reached the counter of the teashop. "And as her first grandchild your mother is very anxious."

"But Angela will be ok?" Ron's voice was very strained; no doubt, worried about his brother.

How much more death could the Weasley family take? Harry didn't even let himself think about the worse case scenario as he ordered six cups of strong herbal tea.

"I don't see why not, but it's just such a long, painful, and highly volatile event, and it can take so long; it gives you a long time to think of everything that can go wrong." Arthur finished, collecting two cups of tea. "I'm sure you and Hermione will both be ok; we'll be here for you too."

"That's not what-!" Ron sputtered, his ears turning a bright red. "That won't be for a while." He finished steadily, after a calming breath.

"I'm sure your mother will be eager for another grandchild." Arthur replied, with a smirk. "To spoil mercilessly."

"That's not-" Ron stopped, his face rigid with embarrassment, and stalked out of the teashop.

"And that goes for you too Harry, no matter how things turn out." Mr. Weasley added, looking back at Harry as he walked after his son.

Did he know? That comment had been much more like Dumbledore then Mr. Weasley; he did need to give Mr. Weasley more credit though… No doubt Mrs. Weasley had noticed something, as most women seemed to do; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley both cared for Harry.

A small burden seemed to lift from Harry's shoulders as he followed after the pair; Mr. Weasley's warnings about Sirius, at the begging of Harry's third year, and several other occasions that he had stepped into to father him as he grew up into the man he was now.

Fred was staring at the cup of tea in his lap when Harry returned to the waiting room. "Sorry, it might be a little cold." He handed Mrs. Weasley a cup of tea, and returned to the overstuffed chair in the corner across from Ron and Fred.

Silence fell.

Hermione sat down between Ron and Fred, as she sipped at her tea.

Who would have ever thought that it could take this long?


	13. Product may Need some Assembling

Chapter Thirteen: Product may Need some Assembling

Tentatively, a young female healer stuck her head into the room, and everyone stopped breathing. "Which one of you is the father?" Her shrill voice could have been distressed, or just really excited it was hard to tell as her eyes quickly darted from Mr. Weasley, to Ron, To Harry, and finally stopped on Fred.

Slowly, Fred rose to his feet, and walked shakily out of the room after the woman.

"I think that was a good thing." Hermione ventured as the silence stretched out once more.

It was so much less stressful when I was having the baby." Mrs. Weasley muttered, bur the edge was gone from her worrying.

"Am I late?" the tension broke as everyone jumped and turned to face Ginny, who was standing innocently at the entrance to the waiting room.

"N-"

"It's a boy!" Fred burst back through the door, his face practically glowing with excitement.

The change in the room was immediate with Mrs. Weasley hurrying past her son, and nearly bowling him over.

"Congratulations." Mr. Weasley was a little slower off the couch; wrapping his son in a bear hug before following his wife.

"And I am still the only Weasley girl." Ginny hugged Fred as the final occupants of the waiting room gravitated towards him.

"Fred, a father? I fear for the poor child." Ron stifled a laugh, and dodged Fred's half-hearted swat.

"What are you going to name him?" Hermione quieted Ron with a look, her fingers entwining with his.

"George. George Phillip Weasley." Fred's silly grin faltered for a moment, but quickly reasserted itself. "He looks like his mother." Fred added, perhaps a little too dreamily, since Ron almost groaned as he rolled his eyes.

Harry, who had been standing off to the side, suddenly became aware of Ginny's arm, brushing against his own. "How are things at work?" His own words echoed awkwardly in his own ears, but then everything about this situation was incredibly awkward.

"Oh, nothing very exciting." Ginny turned to face him, slightly surprised, and offered him a shrug.

"You haven't been around."

"I do have an apartment."

Harry quickly cut in, after a short pause, as Mrs. Weasley reappeared to usher the mass into the hospital room. "We need to talk."

"Don't worry Fred." Molly brushed aside her son's worries. "She'll be ok; this is the first of a new generation." And pushed Harry through the door to bring up the rear; very close behind Ginny.

"Oh, he's so cute!" Hermione sounded vastly more energized then she had in a long time; since S.P.E.W. perhaps?

Looking down at the baby, caught up in the prideful arms of his mother, looked rather like a very red sausage to Harry; he could only assume that all babies looked like this upon arrival, and then crew out of it, and into what could be called cute, until it threw up all over you.

"So, when can I expect you to provide me with a second grandchild Ronald?" Mrs. Weasley called over and around Harry, Ginny, and Fred to Ron and Hermione.

"Uh…" Ron's ears instantly took on a distinctive scarlet shade, as he glanced quickly to Hermione, who was deeply engrossed in a conversation with Angelina that she hadn't noticed her mother-in-law's question, and then back to his mother. "I don't know." Ron stumbled over his own tongue, and Harry bent his knees, slightly, to hide behind Fred, lest he be next.

"We have to finish school… And you didn't even want her to go to Diagon Ally; Hermione is not strong enough to have a baby." Ron had grabbed on this excuse, and had run with it, perhaps too enthusiastically; at his final proclamation Hermione was finally distracted, and looked back at Ron, perplexed.


	14. Dinner With the Family

Chapter Fourteen: Dinner with the Family

"I always warned Fred that he would have children just like him; you two are in for quiet a ride." A small tear glistened at the edge of Mrs. Weasley's eye as she smiled down at George Phillip Weasley.

"He already has a lot of Fred's expressions." Angelina agreed, with a soft laugh.

"Sorry I'm late." Harry tried not to look in any way awkward as he slid into the last seat, next to Ginny. "I thought I heard something in one of the empty bedrooms." Harry lied; he had just been sitting in Sirius' room, thinking.

"Was it anything?" Ginny broke into Harry's clouded thoughts; passing him the potatoes.

"No; I must have imagined it."

"All sorts of things surface in large empty houses like this." Mr. Weasley pointed out, trying to start up a conversation as Mrs. Weasley laid her first grandchild down in a playpen.

Harry had been surprised to find, that with a few magical modifications, wizards used things like highchairs, baby food, walkers, and playpens; something about baby supplies just didn't strike him as magical.

Silence, interrupted once or twice by the happy burbling of George, began to stretch out from comfortable to somewhat pensive. "Can you tell us about anything you've been up to recently Ginny; I haven't seen you in weeks." Harry, glancing up at Molly's question, could not help but notice her obvious glance between him and Ginny.

"I've been working on something rather important, and you're right, I can't tell you about it." Ginny's voice was clipped and highly expressionless; she continued, after a pause. "I can tell you, however, that they just hired Blaize Zabini."

"They hired Malfoy's second?" Ron almost chocked on his applesauce in shock.

"Ron, nothing was ever proved; Zabini was never actually involved in anything to do with Youknowwho." Ginny's answer was cool; her expression very much nearing a glare as she looked across at him.

Harry gave an involuntary flinch; as if it was him under her demeaning scrutiny, and not his friend. "He just doesn't seem like the kind of person you would want the government to be hiring into the department of mysteries." They sounded pathetically lipid even to his own ears, but the peace making words were out of his mouth before he realized.

"No matter; he's very good at his job." Ginny's eyes, loosing little of their fire, turned to fix on Harry, and then fell to her plate.

Now the silence was most defiantly of the awkward ilk; Harry squirmed under each of the family's perplexed and confused looks in turn.

"If only Charley, Bill. And Fleur." The last name was added after a slight hesitation on Mrs. Weasley's part. "Could have been here; we have yet to get the entire family under one roof." No one mentioned Percy; Hermione, Angelina, and Mr. Weasley all nodded solemnly.

"I'm sure that they all wish they were here too." Hermione commented over her green beans. "After all, I managed not to burn the cake this time; with no magic."

"You have time to putter around now, but when you have a large family you won't have time to cook without magic." Molly delivered this sage antidote, while sending Ron yet another look.

Harry couldn't help but crack a smile over a mouthful of roast beef; the more Ron balked at the idea of children, the more his mother made her wishes known. Ron didn't dislike children, in fact Harry knew for a fact that his friend loved the idea; he also knew Ron loved Hermione deeply, and let his own insecurities about having children hide behind his concern for his wife's well-being.

"Muggle mothers have been surviving without magic for millennia; I just don't want to be dependent." Hermione offered her mother-in-law a noncommittal shrug; her shoulder unsurreptitiously shifting to entwine her fingers with Ron's, under the table.

Mrs. Weasley gave a slight huff, as if she could not imagine such a world. "So, have you two decided on a wedding date?"

Harry froze.

"Didn't he tell you mother; Harry and I are no longer engaged?"

It was over; the cat was out of the bag. Harry swallowed several times, trying to wet his suddenly sandpaper dry throat.

"What?" Four of the six occupants at the table chorused together; Hermione, and subsequently Ron, didn't seem all that surprised.

"We decided, mutually, to stop seeing each other; things just weren't working out." Ginny got out of her chair, pushing in again. "If you don't mind, I think I'll be going then." She turned, and walked out.

"Stop he-" As the sound of the front door closing behind his former fiancé resounded through the silent house, Mrs. Weasley jumped to her feet.

"Let her go mum." Fred was at his mother's side in an instant; his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"I don't think Molly." Mr. Weasley, the subject of his wife's demands, stood up more slowly; his head nodding in agreement with Fred. "She's a grown woman, who can make her own decisions."

Harry, now in full control of his limbs once more, slowly got to his feet; as quietly as he could. The play-acting was over now; his only claim on the Weasley family at large had just been shattered.

"Is this ok with you Harry?" Harry had been trying to slip past Mrs. Weasley and Fred, on his way out, but suddenly found himself firmly in the woman's teary grasp.

"Uh; yeah!" Her embrace had pushed all air of Harry's lungs, and this involuntary squeak escaped with his last gasps for air.

"It's really personal." Harry added, after a few deep gasps, and under a cajoling look from Hermione. "But, we felt that it wasn't the right time; I didn't want to burden…" He really didn't feel like explaining; he didn't even understand half of it himself. How could he break this nicely to his ex's mother?

"I'm sure that they thought this through before they made this decision Molly." Mr. Weasley came to Harry's rescue.

"I, we, all, just expected…" Molly trailed off; letting go of Harry. "We've all made our share of stupid decisions."

The decision had been made weeks ago, but it was a depressing culmination of the evening to have everyone moving out of Grimmauld place.

"Harry, I want you to know, that no matter who you marry, and wherever you go, you'll always be welcome at the Burrow." Mr. Weasley clasped Harry's shoulder warmly. "You'll always be part of our family."

Harry nodded, his eyes falling to his shoes, unable to meet the other man's eyes. "Thank-you; it means a lot."

"And, if you have any questions, or ever need anything, don't hesitate."

"I won't." With a final shaking of hands, they were all gone.

A/N You never thought I would update again did you?

Well, here's an update, on my part; some feedback, on your part, would be highly encouraging )


	15. Grocery Stores the New Singles' Bar

Chapter fifteen: Grocery stores; the new single's bar.

It had only been a week since they had all moved out; only a single week alone with Kreature in that huge empty house, and Harry wasn't sure how many more weeks like that he could survive.

What did heroes do after they were done saving the world? Was growing out your hair and experimenting with facial hair all he had left?

Getting a dog might be a good idea; a nice large, black, dog. Harry's stomach tightened.

"Is there something wrong with those pears?"

"Um…" Hjarry jerked out of his reverie to face across the basket of pears to Luna Lovegood. "Hello Luna, no I don't think; I was just thinking."

"Because epears often serve as homes for pelizey shorts." She continued, her voice falling to a direly grave note.

"Well, I didn't see any." Harry was too distracted to find Lana's lunacies in the least bit annoying, or amusing; actually, he didn't really have time for them this morning.

"Well, see you around?" Harry dropped several pears into his shopping bag and moved on to a display of carrots; whatever Kreature was useful for, Harry certainly was not about to trust him with food shipping.

The muggle grocery store was good enough for Harry, and he wasn't all that sure how wizards bought their food, and muggles didn't recognize him.

"Are you alright?"

Harry blinked; he had been staring at the carrots for two or three minutes. Why was Luna in a muggle grocer store? Maybe he was hallucinating…

There was Luna, smack dab in the middle of a muggle establishment; dressed in blue jeans and a vividly orange t-shirt no less. But, there was no doubt about it, she was there; Harry resisted the urge to pinch himself.

"I'm fine," and at her skeptical look he added "really."

"If you say so; are you doing anything tomorrow night?"

"No; wha-" Harry was about to ask her exactly what had brought her to this somewhat uncharacteristic location, but Luna interrupted him again.

"Perfect, I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron at the moment; why don't you stop by for dinner tomorrow night about…" Luna trailed off in thought, and Harry could do little more then stare in shock. "Six O'clock?"

"Um; sure."

"Lovely." With a smile and a light touch on the arm, in passing, she walked out of the grocery; while Harry wasn't tingling, he did feel an urge to smile after her.

The rest of his shopping was overcast in a haze as Harry wondered what exactly had just happened.

All that morning's angsting about being along, and who other then Ron and Hermione were sitting on his stoop when Harry did arrive home.

"Harry!" Hermione was on her feet in a moment, as Harry climbed out of the taxi; her arms thrown about him in an energetic hug,

"'ello." 'Twas the day for him to be stunned speechless; Ron grabbed his two bags of groceries and they escorted him up the doorstep.

"So, how has living all by yourself been like?"

"It's been different. But in a good way; I guess I'm just nervous about the dinner thing as well." Harry added the last in a rush at the sympathy that darkened Hermione's face, sending a tingling finger of guilt down his spine.

"I guess you don't have a date then." Rom mussed, breaking the silence that pervaded the monstrous and empty house.

"Maybe he's going with someone else." Hermione countered, as if she knew more on the subject then Harry did.

"I don't; is it really necessary?" As usual, girls, even just talking about them, sapped all his energy. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"It's probably expected; traditional. But, don't feel any pressure at all." Hermione shrugged, trying to make sense, of what Harry viewed as, one of the universe's unsolvable mysteries.

Ron was saved from contributing further by a strategic exit to the pantry,

"That really relieves the pressure." Harry rolled his eyes; flopping into a kitchen chair, he dropped his torso across the table. "Who would I take anyway?" He realized his mistake a split second later, as light dawned across Hermione's face.

"You could ask Luna." Hermione suggested, leaning over Harry.

A/N thank-you to everyone who reviewed; it's nice to know certain friends of mine who want to read the story aren't just refreshing the pages over and over to up my hits.

(They're posing as other people at the very least  )


	16. Dare I Inquire

Chapter sixteen: Dare I Inquire

'You could ask Luna', Hermione's words played through Harry's head over and over as he was thrown back and forth across the Knight bus. He could ask her; he had once before. It wouldn't be awkward at all. Yeah right!

'How close were you and Ginny? Well, since we just broke up, I was wondering if you wanted to go to a dinner at the Ministry with me…' It almost sounded derogatory, and most certainly moronic, to Harry. Changing landscapes whisked by, bringing him ever closer to her, and Harry mused over his memories of their last date; the word dug deep into his mind, longing itself there permanently. Should he get her flowers?

It wasn't a date, no matter what Hermione seemed to have been insinuating with those knowing eyes of hers; Harry, feeling completely naked even under his wizard robes, found himself sitting at a table for two in the corner of The Leaky Cauldron. He was early, and all the company that had yet appeared was Tom's leering grin.

"Oh, sorry Harry." Luna slipped into the seat across from Harry; brushing her hair out of her eyes, and looking across at Harry apologetically.

"It's ok," Harry replied, his eyes flitting to the molding molding around the ceiling; eating here almost made his skin crawl. In the end, it was better then a lot of places and things he had eaten and lived in through the past few years, fighting Voldemort.

"My father told me to not even touch the pea soup, but I had the grilled chicken last night and it was actually good…" Luna trailed off, as if only just then realizing that Harry had still not looked at her.

"I haven't eaten grilled chicken in ages; sounds good." Harry's gaze deliberately fell to meet Luna's, a small puff of a nervous breath escaping as his stomach began to knot. He had killed the dark lord, and yet he couldn't eat dinner, civilly, with a lady friend.

"I think I'll have some salad." Luna finally decided, glancing over at Tom, who obligingly shuffled over to take their orders. "The food isn't always the best, but I know for a fact that they always test for all the little critters that like sneaking into food." She added as Tom shuffled away again.

"Oh." Dinner conversation might prove to be rather thin. Harry's fingers rubbed against his fork.

Harry had faced death in the face, and had won; he wasn't about to let empty silence ruin everything. What that everything was, he wasn't quiet sure of yet. He was going to say something though! But what? "How's your father?"

"He's doing really well; the Quibbler too." Luna's features lifted into a brilliant smile. "Yeah, I work for him now, as a researcher and writer. This fall I'll be moving out to Hogsmeade; it's the only wholly magical community in Britain, and so a lot of strange things happen there."

"Yeah, I guess so…" Harry trailed off; blood unexplainably rising in his cheeks. "I'm actually working at Hogwarts this fall as a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, while we make up our studies to officially take our N.E.W.T.s."

"Oh?" Luna's head tilted ever so slightly to the right as she considered Harry.

"Your orders miss; Mr. Potter." Tom placed the plates between them reverently, his surprise entrance making Harry's skin jump; that man was far too silent.

The soft brushing of utensils against food and mouth filled the space between them with a comfortable silence.

"Yes Harry?" Luna looked up at Harry, meeting what he suddenly realized had morphed into a stare, and he looked away. "Is something wrong?"

'You could ask Luna' if Hermione had suggested it, asking her couldn't be that taboo. This was so different then going out with Ginny; with her, he had always been confident in what he did, and with Luna every baby step had to be ripped from him. It was almost as hard as breaking up with Ginny had been.

"Has Ginny told you anything about what she's up to with her job?" Harry asked, as he consumed the last few bights of chicken; it hadn't been all that bad.

Luna paused, her teeth peeking out to nibble at her lip. "We've gone separate ways Harry; we don't actually talk that much, at all actually." Her eyes pierced into Harry with some feeling that he could not quiet put his finger on.

"Oh." This certainly wasn't a very good lead in to asking her out; what had he been leading up to anyway? To hell with it all. "So you aren't friends anymore?" He must have sounded to happy about it, because her replying shake of the head was accompanied by an odd look.

Harry paused, his lungs expanding hugely to take one final deep breath before the plunge. "Would you go to the Ministry dinner with me?"

"Um." Luna stared at him for what seemed liked hours being dragged across hot asphalt. "Sure."


End file.
